


Getting Our Own Relationship

by tongari



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-09
Updated: 2009-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tongari/pseuds/tongari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8059 (young people who don't know they love each other), featuring D/S (old farts secretly in love with each other), with a cameo by Hibari sleeping on the couch for five seconds; or, as original summary reads, "how to disentangle yourself from other people's love affairs and date your own damn best friend"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Our Own Relationship

*

 

In their final year of college, Takeshi Yamamoto shares an two-bedroom apartment with Hayato Gokudera. They split the whole unit roughly in half and draw a line in black duct tape down the middle of the corridor. Yamamoto takes the smaller bedroom, the standalone bathroom, and the kitchen. Gokudera takes the big room with its built-in bathroom and open balcony with no smoke alarm. The hall is not relevant to either of their interests and is therefore neutral territory. There is a very comfortable couch in it for sitting down and taking your shoes off. It is so comfortable that sometimes Kyouya Hibari, whom they knew from high school and who does not go to their college, sneaks into their apartment and takes naps on their couch. Neither Yamamoto nor Gokudera are aware that he does so. Sometimes Yamamoto cooks a lot of food and when he puts it in the fridge he writes a note to Gokudera telling him so and leaves it on the couch. When Gokudera comes home and finds the note, he goes to the fridge and checks what is inside and if it is pleasing to him and he is very hungry, he eats it and washes up and writes a thank-you note to Yamamoto that he leaves on the couch. Sometimes Hibari finds the notes on the couch when he comes in; he puts the notes on the floor, naps, and puts them back when he wakes up, before he leaves.

Although they share an apartment, Yamamoto and Gokudera have no classes in common and hardly see each other except at other people's parties. Sometimes they meet when Yamamoto has lunch with Tsunayoshi Sawada, because Gokudera always has lunch with Tsunayoshi Sawada. Gokudera doesn't like having lunch with Tsuna having lunch with Yamamoto because Yamamoto always wants to eat food that is not pleasing to Gokudera. Also Yamamoto is always so friendly and effortlessly, platonically attractive in a masculine and charismatic and trustworthy manner, and Tsuna always smiles at him and is ready to confide in him. This is not pleasing to Gokudera, who cannot always make Tsuna smile and is sometimes secretly afraid that Tsuna does not confide in him despite Gokudera trying very hard to be friendly and trustworthy.

"Hey," Yamamoto says, smiling, "how are both of you doing?"

"Good, except I have so much coursework," Tsuna says.

"I'll help you finish it," Gokudera says.

"Don't you have to do your own coursework too?" Yamamoto asks. Gokudera is in all of Tsuna's classes; Gokudera would not have had it any other way.

"I'll manage," Gokudera says. With his eyes he murders Yamamoto for asking. But he has no special powers in his eyes, so Yamamoto endures. They exchange news, pleasantries, gossip.. "Oh, Kyoko's cooking dinner for me this Saturday!" Tsuna says. His face flushes as he says it but his eyes are shining. Yamamoto and Gokudera are actually just starting on the subject of the Varia and what might have happened to it in the past six years. They stare at Tsuna blankly while making the necessary mental adjustments to follow the updated conversation. Tsuna hides his face behind the menu. They finish making the necessary mental adjustments. Gokudera whistles; Yamamoto claps Tsuna on the back. "Well done!" Yamamoto says, "wow, what's the occasion?" as if he does not have a fan club full of girls ready to cook dinner for him. The fan club meets on the bleachers at the baseball pitch every time there is practice; they have an arrangement with the baseball team's manager where he lets them stay and they do not throw lacy underwear over the fence at Yamamoto.

"There doesn't need to be an occasion," Gokudera says, as if he has a fan club full of girls ready to cook dinner for him, which he doesn't.

"You can't say that," Yamamoto says, "that attitude gets you in trouble with the ladies."

"Oh, you would know!" Gokudera jeers.

"Yeah," Yamamoto says. He has completely missed the implied insult, he smiles and winks conspiratorially at Gokudera. "We sure know about it! Ladies are all about the special occasions. So, Tsuna, what's the occasion?"

"Ah, it's our anniversary.."

"Wow, congrats, has it been that long?"

"Five months," Gokudera says crisply. Tsuna, who has just opened his mouth to say the same thing, shuts his mouth, nods weakly instead.

"Aw," Yamamoto says, "that's great."

"Well, it's kind of her turn," Gokudera says. "The first three months you took her out for high tea and a picnic and dinner.. The fourth month you weren't really free and she said it was okay not to celebrate every month anyway. But it looks like she didn't really mean that because now she's doing something.. But you are going to get her a little present secretly, so it's okay."

"Yeah," Tsuna says. He looks dazed. "Exactly what you said."

"Wow, Gokudera," Yamamoto says, "you really need to get your own relationship!"

Gokudera accidentally bites through his unlit cigarette. "Excuse me?" he says, after spitting the bitten piece out. Yamamoto is laughing, amused. Tsuna is also laughing but he is also embarrassed so it does not show so much. Yamamoto's laughter sweeps through the quiet lunch crowd at the cafeteria like a sudden warm gust of September rain; he thumps the table as he laughs, rolls around in his chair, nearly falls off his seat. Tsuna says, "That's not really that funny," but he is still smiling. Gokudera is not smiling. "What do you mean," he says. Yamamoto is gasping for breath, sprawls over his lunch, head bent over his plate. Gokudera wants to reach up and smash Yamamoto's face down into his soup. Yamamoto looks up at Gokudera; his eyes are wet with tears, his face is still cracked into a great silly grin. "I'm sorry," he says, "sorry, Gokudera, sorry, Tsuna. Look, I'm done, I've stopped."

"What did you mean?" Gokudera says. "Get my own relationship, what the hell?"

"Forget it," Yamamoto says. "Gokudera, you haven't finished your lunch! You're going to be late for class."

"I don't have class after this, I'm free the whole afternoon."

"Actually we do," Tsuna says. "We have study group in ten minutes.. You remembered to finish last week's assignments, right?"

"I hate you," Gokudera says. "Not you, Tenth. I mean you, Takeshi Yamamoto. Tonight we are sitting down and settling this shit together like men."

"Oh, okay," Yamamoto says, looking stupidly happy, as if Gokudera has offered to buy him a beer.

"I mean it!"

"Okay, okay," Yamamoto says, as if Gokudera has insisted on buying him a beer, "if it makes you happy. See you later, Tsuna. Later, Gokudera. Oh, I'm going for practice, I'll be back late."

"Why tell me, I'm not your mum!"

"Gokudera," Tsuna says.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," Yamamoto says, "I'm used to him. Later!"

"See you later," Tsuna says. They all get up and leave the cafeteria, Tsuna and Gokudera to class, Yamamoto to the baseball pitch. As they are walking back to the main building Gokudera says, "Tenth, what did he mean by that? You don't think I'm being too nosy, do you? I don't get in the way of you and Kyoko being together, do I?"

"You're the best, Gokudera," Tsuna says. And then, as Gokudera puffs up with pride: "Cousin Dino's coming to visit this weekend, do you think you could hang out with him on Saturday night? Kyoko kind of said she wouldn't mind cooking for you too but she'd really rather just have it be the two of us and she doesn't really like cigarette smoke and Cousin Dino tends to break stuff and -- You're the best, Gokudera. I don't know what I'd do without you."

 

*

 

Gokudera has a driver's license and a souped-up blue Subaru with gold rims and an enormous spoiler standing up on its bum like a tail. It is a fairly standard and ugly look which Gokudera hates but cannot justify the cost of replacing. He goes to pick Dino up from a train station, which Dino promises he will be able to make his way to from the airport without accidentally causing an evacuation or train crash. Gokudera checks with Romario that Dino's men will accompany him at least to the station exit and then agrees to the arrangement. To his surprise and relief he finds Dino waiting for him at the stipulated pick-up point, surrounded by bodyguards dressed conspicously as German tourists. Gokudera gets out and gives Dino the obligatory Italian hug and kisses on the cheek and manly slaps on the back. As he opens the door for Dino he makes a mental note to let Romario know that lederhosen is no longer the rage.

"Where's your good friend?" Dino asks.

"Who -- Tsuna? He's at Kyoko's, it's their fifth anniversary."

Dino's eyebrows sail up into his hair; the German tourists stop waving their hands about and chatting in rapid-fire Italian and turn to look at Gokudera. "Five months," Gokudera says, "they've been together five months," and Dino says, "Oh," and relaxes. "Damn, I thought I missed the wedding," Dino says and laughs. Gokudera thinks, his laugh is somehow irritating, and immediately feels guilty for thinking so. Dino smiles at him, swings his bag casually into the passenger seat of the car and slides in as coolly and stylishly as a gangster -- which, Gokudera thinks belatedly, is just about right. Gokudera gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine, eases the car out of its parking space and onto the road. Dino waves goodbye to his painfully disguised men until they are about ten meters away. He then folds his hands firmly across his chest, takes a deep breath, and tries not to touch anything. "I meant, your good friend," Dino says, "Takeshi, right?"

"He is not my good friend," Gokudera says. "He is at baseball practice all of today and we are going to his game tonight. Because Tsuna got us tickets," he adds.

"Did you guys fight or something?"

"No, we did not. He is just not my good friend, I don't understand why everyone thinks he is."

"Well, I'm not going to stick my nose in here," Dino says. "He always talks about you as his good friend, that's all. I thought it was mutual. Anyway, none of my business.. So we're going to a baseball game tonight? Exciting!"

"Exciting," Gokudera says. They have stopped at a traffic light, a bunch of schoolgirls hanging out on the sidewalk are pointing at Dino and giggling and nudging each other. Dino has his arms folded across his chest and with his tousled blonde hair and chiseled features and warm dark eyes and sleepy half-smile looks very handsome, very cool. Gokudera knows Dino is only striking this pose because Dino is terrified of accidentally destroying the car with a careless gesture of his calamituous hands. Still, Gokudera finds it difficult not to begrudge Dino that magic which only people like Dino can exude: that friendly, effortless attractiveness which is all at once masculine and charismatic and trustworthy and can only be exuded by people like Dino, and Yamamoto. And not people like Gokudera.

"By the way," Dino says, "do you have an extra bed at your place I could bunk at for a few days?"

"What? Why don't you stay at a posh hotel like a normal mafia boss??"

"Ssh," Dino says. "I'm traveling incognito. That means I don't want everyone to know I'm here."

"I know you're here."

"You're not everyone," Dino says. Gokudera thinks: shit, he even smiles and says stupid things like Yamamoto. The way his eyes crease at the corners, the funny little lilt in his voice when he's smiling, even the little impish flash of white canine just at the corner of his smile.. And then Gokudera thinks: shit, when he smiles he is really incredibly attractive. At this point Gokudera can't tell if he is thinking about Dino, or Yamamoto. Gokudera is horrified. He revs the engine, the car jumps forward, Dino screams and his seat belt snaps. Dino insists on paying for it later, but Gokudera refuses to accept Dino's offer. "It's not your fault," Gokudera says, not looking Dino in the eyes.

 

*

 

After dropping Dino off at his apartment to shower and take a nap, Gokudera walks over to the convenience store, ostentatiously to get milk. The minute he leaves the apartment building he calls his sister. "I have a problem," he says. "I think Dino Cavallone is incredibly handsome. I am so worried."

"Relax," Bianchi says. "So you're attracted to men. That's cool. Maybe we can finally bond over something."

"I am not attracted to men," Gokudera says. "I just picked him up from the station and he was making fun of me and suddenly he smiled and I thought, shit, he reminds me of Yamamoto, he's incredibly attractive in a very friendly masculine charismatic way, no wonder I hate him so much."

"I thought you said you thought he was incredibly handsome."

"I did, I'm also telling you, I hate his guts."

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't in the car with you," Bianchi says. "What a conflicted soul college has turned you into. What's this about Yamamoto, why was he suddenly also in the car? Isn't he playing baseball?"

"He is playing baseball, he wasn't in the car. Dino just reminded me of Yamamoto when he was making fun of me and smiling."

"So you think Yamamoto is also handsome and you also hate his guts?"

"Pretty much. Maybe more so. Look, do you think I should get my own relationship?"

"Sure, but first you have to make up your mind," Bianchi says. "You can't date both of them at the same time. Not even if you're confused. You have to be not confused first and then pick one. Then you can have your own relationship with that one. The other one, well, it's just too bad, you can't have everything you know?"

"I don't mean with either of them! I mean a normal relationship, with a girl!"

"But I thought you didn't like girls," Bianchi says. "Do you even know any girls?"

Gokudera makes a strangled noise and hangs up.

 

*

 

Halfway across town, Yamamoto is finishing baseball practice and helping to put the equipment away. It has been nice all day with clear blue skies and they are hoping for the good weather to continue until the evening, when they will have the college's first night match. Yamamoto hopes the weather will hold. He looks at the horizon and his brow furrows to see a line of grey clouds rolling in from the distant mountains. "Look at that," he says to his teammates.

"I know, look at that!" they tell him.

He blinks. They are all looking at something else, up on the bleachers. He remembers now that his fan club usually sits up there; he puts his hand up and waves mightily, hoping they aren't too angry that he has forgotten all about them until now. But there is only one girl there today, a tall and slim figure in a black leather coat, huge aviator shades hiding her eyes. Yamamoto shields his eyes against the sunlight. Beneath the fashionable scarf pulled over her head he thinks he can see a flash of pale hair, so blonde it appears almost silver.

"She kicked all the other girls out," his pitcher says admiringly, "you should check out her legs when she stands up -- Wait, there she goes!"

Squalo stands up and screams at Yamamoto in Italian; Yamamoto makes out his name and some swear words he learned from Gokudera. He waves in what he hopes is a placating manner. "I will meet you downstairs, tour guide, turn right into the supermarket," he shouts back, haltingly. His teammates turn to look at him in awe -- "Is she your girlfriend?" they ask in disbelief. "You lucky bastard, Yamamoto, she's not a supermodel is she? You bastard!"

Yamamoto grins sheepishly, shrugs off their attention, fends off jabs in the ribs, ducks away into the tunnel and runs up the stairs two at a time. He bursts out into the carpark and looks around. "Crap," he says aloud, "did I say the right words?"

"It's 'parking lot'," Squalo says. "Or 'carpark', it's the same."

"'Parking lot', 'carpark'.. Wow, that's not too hard. What did I say?"

"You said 'supermarket', you idiot. And 'tour guide'! Who's a fucking tour guide! Your Italian is still absolutely shit! What do you learn at college?"

"Math," Yamamoto says. "Hello, Mr Squalo. Nice to see you again. I watched all the videos you sent me, you know."

"You'd better," Squalo says. "Filming was easy, editing was hell. Anyway, what were you doing down in that field for two whole hours? You could have been training!"

"I was training!"

"You were hitting balls with a stick! If I was going to hit--" Squalo launches into a detailed explanation of how to torture and mutilate people, which Yamamoto doesn't understand enough Italian to appreciate. Instead, Yamamoto puts a hand on Squalo's shoulder and when Squalo takes a breath, says, "I'm so glad you came all the way here to see me," smiling at Squalo, the edges of his eyes creasing, that white tooth up in the corner of his smile shining in his tan face. "Are you going to stay for my game? I can get you tickets!"

"No. I came here on business. I am here to guard, I mean kill someone! Stop hugging me!"

"What, here in this town? There's no one here for you to kill, we're all students."

"Not here," Squalo says, and then he says some more things in Italian that go completely over Yamamoto's head. He waves his hands around a lot to help explain the nuances of the situation. All the time Yamamoto is wondering if Squalo's eyes are still the same startling pale grey they were before, where Squalo hides his sword these days because there is certainly no space to hide it in that tight coat and yet Squalo would never go anywhere without his sword, if Squalo really kills people any more these days. And Yamamoto wonders, what kind of people does Squalo kill these days? Is it just evil people who would kill Tsuna and Tsuna's friends and family, or does Squalo also kill innocent people as well? He doesn't think Squalo knows the difference. This troubles him and yet he still wants to put his hand on Squalo's shoulder, put his arm around Squalo's shoulders, buy him a beer, reach out and take those ridiculous shades off his face -- Yamamoto reaches out and takes the aviator shades off Squalo's face. "Hey!" Squalo snatches his shades out of Yamamoto's hand, faster than Yamamoto can blink. It's all right, Yamamoto thinks: Squalo's eyes aren't any less angry than they were six years ago, but they haven't turned red like Xanxus's eyes either. "Sorry," Yamamoto says. "I just wanted to see your face again."

"Don't ever say that again," Squalo says. "Now give me your phone number."

"What? Oh, sure." Yamamoto takes the mobile phone from Squalo's imperiously outstretched hand, keys his number into it. "Here. Are you going to be in Japan for long? Where are you staying?"

"I'll come back after I'm done and I'll fight you," Squalo says. "Hey, how do you spell your name?" Yamamoto takes the phone back, obligingly keys in his name, hands it back to Squalo. "Thanks. Look, you had better not disappoint me or I'll kill you. Six years! You'd better be better!"

"I've missed you," Yamamoto says honestly. Squalo shudders, stows the phone away. "No, really! I'm glad you didn't die. If you did we wouldn't have a chance to fight again, right?"

"You remind me of another idiot I know," Squalo says, "so I won't kill anyone here today. I must be getting soft in my old age.. I'll see you when I see you. Don't break a leg or ankle or so much as a toe playing that stupid game tonight! I want to fight you at one hundred percent!"

"One hundred percent!" Yamamoto calls after Squalo as Squalo gets into his car and slams the door. Squalo drives at Yamamoto on his way out and Yamamoto has to jump and roll out of the way to avoid getting run down. But he is grinning when he gets up, he thinks, he really likes Squalo. And, recalling the stretch of skintight leather going endlessly down Squalo's legs: such a shame he's not really a woman, Yamamoto thinks. If he was--

 

*

 

"I think I'm in love with a guy," Yamamoto says.

Gokudera spits his beer out across the table; Yamamoto dodges reflexively.

"Sorry," Yamamoto says. "It just occured to me."

He shuffles his feet under the table. They are at a pub on the outskirts of campus, having a very late dinner and a whole lot of beer. After Squalo left the sky had began to absolutely pour rain; it had not stopped since. The match had been postponed to the next weekend, and Dino had been very nice and said he really didn't mind wherever they went, that he was actually just here to visit Tsuna and meet up with other friends. "That includes both of you," he had said. And Yamamoto had thought Dino was an awfully nice person when Dino said that. This judgement call, together with a lot of beer, had gradually influenced him to believe that if anyone could understand this weird, empty, miserable, yet somewhat glowing and fuzzy feeling that had been growing deep inside his chest ever since he saw Squalo up on the bleachers, it was Dino.

Dino thinks: oh, no, he's going to confess, right here in front of the guy! He hands Gokudera a napkin and says to Yamamoto, "You're drunk, of course you're attracted to a guy," and laughs. Yamamoto doesn't laugh. Shit, Dino thinks; he's seriously going to tell Gokudera he likes Gokudera, here and now, and Gokudera's just going to scream and break his heart. Not that Gokudera is a bad person; Dino thinks Gokudera is one of those bad boys who would secretly be the best kind of man to be married to, and in fact probably dreams of being married to an equally bad but secretly good girl. But Yamamoto is not a girl. And Gokudera likes girls. Yes, Dino thinks; Gokudera likes girls, and Gokudera doesn't know how to tell Yamamoto this. Dino says, "In fact, you both look really rather attractive to me right now!" and laughs again. This time Yamamoto laughs too; Dino laughs harder, relieved.

"And he has really nice legs," Yamamoto says wistfully.

Dino avoids looking at Gokudera's legs under the table. "Okay," Dino says. "I think someone has really had way too much. Can we get the bill, darling?" this last sentenced addressed to a waitress in passing. "Okay, Hayato, don't worry about it, if you hold the doors open I think I can drag him along til we get to the car."

While Yamamoto protests that he is absolutely fine, Gokudera thinks, holy Madonna, my boss's hot cousin whom I think I am attracted to but sort of hate has the hots for my roommate, whom I'm not sure if I also have the hots for but definitely hate, and can't wait until we at least get home to get his hands all over him. But Yamamoto is so similar to Dino, surely that is kind of incestous? Or is it just narcissicist and therefore perfectly socially acceptable? Wait, what do I feel about it? "Sure!" Gokudera says, and stands up so that he doesn't have to worry so much what he feels about it.

"I'm fine," Yamamoto insists, "I just thought, maybe it is okay to like a guy, as long as it's for the same kind of reasons that I'd like a girl. And so far I think I like girls, but it turns out I don't actually know any girls--"

The waitress has come back with the bill; she is listening with her mouth agape. Dino expertly signs the receipt while slinging Yamamoto up on his shoulders. "Thanks," Dino says sweetly. "Come on, Hayato, get the door, there's a good man."

"I'm not drunk," Yamamoto says. But he follows Dino through the door which Gokudera wordlessly props open for them, staggers into the street. The rain is still going at it and sloshes their hair flat against their skulls and pours down the backs of their necks and down pants legs and socks and forms puddles in their shoes. Yamamoto tilts his head back and laughs into the rain. He is wondering, is he really in love with Squalo and Squalo's long legs and pale hair and angry screaming Italian, or is there some girl in his life he hasn't really noticed with long legs and blonde hair, whose angry words have the power to wash like an explosion of rain over his head? Dino hoists Yamamoto up on his shoulder every now and then, thinking, poor fellow, love really is such a bastard.. And behind them Gokudera slouches along, hands in his pockets and his hood pulled up over his head, still sucking on a waterlogged cigarette. He is thinking: Madonna, please, whatever else happens, if they have sex tonight let it be a) not on the couch in the hallway, everyone sits there to take off their shoes, and b) quiet.

 

*

 

Gokudera's fears are unfounded. The minute they get back, Yamamoto shrugs off his wet coat, stumbles back to his room and falls asleep on the floor. From the hallway, Gokudera yells at him to get up and shower so he can sleep properly in his bed, but Yamamoto is confused in mind and exhausted in body and has had a lot of beer and so pays him no attention. Eventually Gokudera grabs a towel and hurls it through the still-open door where it lands like a soft, settling cloud over Yamamoto as he lies curled up on the floor. "Nice shot," Dino says. "Thank you," Gokudera says. "I've had lots of practice chucking things to him from here." "How come? You don't want to go into his room?" "We agreed," Gokudera says, "we set boundaries," and Dino looks down at the black line of duct tape across the floor, blinks, shrugs, doesn't say a word. He shuts the door to Yamamoto's room, bums a cigarette off Gokudera and goes to sit on Gokudera's balcony, smoking while his hair and jeans dry out. Gokudera lights up too and they sit on the balcony in silence, listening to the rain falling on the awning overhead.

"Back at the pub; what was that all about?" Gokudera asks. He has smoked about half his cigarette and is already digging in his pocket for another. Dino is trying to make his cigarette last, not dragging on it so much, just letting it sit in his hand while he stares out over the sleepy college town drowning in a sea of lush hills and dark rain. He turns to Gokudera, eyebrows raised. Gokudera waves his hand in the direction of Yamamoto's room.

"How much have you guys talked about it?" Dino asks -- Gokudera returns a blank stare. "Ah," Dino says. "You haven't talked about it."

"About what?" Gokudera asks. Shit, he thinks, is Dino Cavallone coming on to me, now that Yamamoto's out of the game? Should I chuck him back out into the hallway? Would the Tenth be upset if I threw his cousin out? Would he more upset if I slept with his cousin?

You know," Dino says. "He likes you."

"I'm sorry," Gokudera says. "What is this about again?"

"I thought, you and Takeshi had a fight or something," Dino says. He looks wary now, perhaps aware he is treading into unfamiliar territory. "I mean, I don't meet him often, but Takeshi always tells me what you're up to and what silly thing you said or did. He really seems to think the world of you. And I thought it was mutual.. But it isn't? Am I reading something wrong here? You should tell me if I'm reading something wrong here."

"I think you are mistaken," Gokudera says slowly. "I am not in a relationship with Takeshi Yamamoto. We just share an apartment. He has his half and I have mine. The hallway is a neutral area though."

"Oh," Dino says. "Well that's all right then. I can sleep out there. The couch looks comfy." He crushes the cigarette out carelessly on his belt buckle - Gokudera is surprised, maybe Dino is not so clumsy when Dino is drunk? - and gets to his feet. "I like it when it rains," Dino says. "It gets really grand and mighty and the air's all fresh and cool.. When it rains, and you wake up when it's still raining, you feel like you could sleep forever."

"It depends who you wake up with," Gokudera says.

"Oh, sure," Dino agrees.

 

*

 

In the morning Gokudera wakes up and tries to have a morning smoke, only to discover Squalo sleeping on his balcony. There is a lot of swearing and cussing in Italian before Dino and Yamamoto wake up and rush in to intervene. "What the hell," Dino says. There are dark circles under his eyes and his face is puffy from poor sleep, though still devastatingly attractive. "You are worse than any of my girlfriends upon finding out about each other."

"You have girlfriends?" Gokudera asks.

"No," Dino admits. "But if I had two at once and they found out about each other, I would not feel as scared as I just did."

They are all standing in the hallway now because above the hissing and screaming Yamamoto had shouted, "I can't be here, boundaries, boundaries," and lifted Gokudera bodily, hustled him out of the balcony through Gokudera's bedroom and into the hallway. Dino had followed soon after, dragging Squalo, whom he had dumped onto the couch and instructed to stay put and not kill anybody. Gokudera insists they tie Squalo up and alert Tsuna; Dino says, "It's all right," wearily, "he's here because I asked him to watch someone for me."

There is a stony silence.

"You did what?" Gokudera asks; his cigarette glows ominously. "He's a mercenary," Dino says, "not technically just an assassin--" "That's right, not a fucking babysitter!" Squalo says resentfully. "Squalo, _shut up_ ," Dino says. To Gokudera's surprise, Squalo really does glower and shut up -- "You really do have him working for you," Gokudera says in wonder.

"Yes," Dino says, "I really do. I told Tsuna not to worry, he and Kyoko wouldn't notice anyone there at all, but they would be perfectly safe all the while, and they were."

"Did someone try--" Gokudera begins to ask, and Dino cuts him off, shaking his head, "It's all right."

"Ten of them!" Squalo says happily, kicking his feet against the couch. Dino sighs. "It was just a bunch of Japanese yakuza," he says. "Tsuna suspected something, but he felt it wasn't worth spoiling your Saturday night with Takeshi--"

"Since when do I have Saturday nights with him? And when is anything are more important than making sure the Tenth is safe?" Gokudera takes a pause, he is afraid he may have begun to foam at the mouth. "And you don't tell us and bring in some monster to do the job instead?"

"Mr Squalo is not a monster," Yamamoto says quietly. He has been sitting on the couch beside Squalo, but now he stands up and Gokudera is unpleasantly reminded again of how tall and masculine and charismatic Yamamoto is. How much more so than Gokudera, anyway, and maybe that's what's been important to Gokudera all along, that Yamamoto has always been more of anything that Gokudera could be. "Actually, you know, now that I think of it, he's rather a lot like you."

"I am _not_ ," Squalo says indignantly.

"Takeshi Yamamoto," Gokudera says, "I've had more than enough of your shit," and then he pulls a hand back and punches Yamamoto in the face. He is really rather surprised when Yamamoto doesn't dodge the blow and it connects, he feels an explosion of pain in his fist, and then Yamamoto is lying on the floor holding his face. "Oh, shit," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Yamamoto, I'm sorry. Look, I'm done, I'm done" and he kneels down, his hands are reaching out for Yamamoto but somehow now they are unable to connect, he cannot bring himself to touch Yamamoto again. Yamamoto's tall and broad and charismatic body feels so far away just lying there on the floor, holding his face. Gokudera stands up, his cigarette tastes suddenly foul, he has bitten off the end and it is bitter and acid in his mouth. He turns around, goes into his room, slams the door shut and then locks himself into his bathroom where he tries to wash the taste of tobacco and blood out of his mouth.

"Hayato?"

Dino is knocking on the door of his room.

"Fuck off!" Gokudera says. "Please," he adds, remembering that Dino is the cousin of his boss.

"I'm sorry," Dino says. "Tsuna and I both thought it would be great if you could stop worrying about Tsuna's safety and just enjoy your weekend for once. I'm sorry for using the Varia. I knew you wouldn't like it but I have every reason to trust in Squalo."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you after you let me in."

Gokudera unlocks the bathroom door, goes out into his bedroom, unlocks the bedroom door, looks through it into the hallway. Only Dino is standing there, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Where is Yamamoto?" -- "In the kitchen," Dino says. "He wants to make everyone breakfast. Apparently you guys don't have guests over so often."

"I'm sorry I hit him."

"Tell that to him," Dino says. "Can you let me in? I don't want the whole world to know this."

Gokudera pushes the door open and Dino shuffles in and hits his head on the edge of the door. "Ouch," Dino says. "I really hate this part of my life." He sits down on the edge of Gokudera's bed. Gokudera sits down on the opposite edge of his bed. Yesterday, sitting on the same bed as Dino Cavallone would have troubled Gokudera and greatly reduced his ability to make lucid observations. Today it is not so much of a big deal. Gokudera looks at Dino's sleepy face and attractively messy hair and wonders why he ever thought Dino Cavallone was gay when it is perfectly clear that Dino is the sort of person who could have two girlfriends at the same time and never let them find out about each other.

"I'm in this relationship with Squalo," Dino says. "Oh Madonna, that sounds so gay."

"It does," Gokudera says. "I'm sorry; what did you just say?"

"It's sort of a relationship," Dino says. "He comes over once in a while when he's really fed up with Xanxus or he finishes a job early and is too lazy to report back. Sometimes I call him and bitch about work and he tells me to shut up or how I can do it better. Sometimes he comes over with a crate of wine and we get drunk together until he throws a fit and leaves in a huff. That's about it. It's not a very exciting relationship."

"Do you sleep with him?"

"That's none of your business," Dino says, "go get your own relationship. What I'm trying to tell you is that Squalo is not an enemy of the Vongola. And I'm personally very sure of this. Anyway, quite aside from anything I have been doing, the Varia have been reassembled, back to their full strength, and it would be very wasteful not to make use of that strength to our advantage with the new rules they must obey now. Even Xanxus is not really an enemy any more. But I'm not in a relationship with Xanxus."

"Yes; he doesn't seem your type," Gokudera says.

"You get it, don't you?"

"I get it," Gokudera says. "I got it a while ago. I just don't get why the hell Yamamoto gets it too. He got it even earlier than I did. What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Dino says. "He is right though. You are kind of like Squalo, but fluffier. Don't tell Squalo I said that." And Dino leans over and kisses Gokudera on the cheek and then pats him on the head. Gokudera's mouth falls open. Dino stands up and yawns. "I'm seriously tired," he says. "If that's that, I'm going back to sleep. Don't fight with Takeshi any more, okay? He is in love with you, you know."

"I will try not to," Gokudera says. "Thank you for your kind concern."

 

*

 

Yamamoto makes breakfast in the kitchen: new rice, steamed mackerel, an assortment of pickles, soup and leftover kinpira from the fridge which he just needs to refry with mirin and sugar. Squalo watches him without offering to help. Squalo has shrugged off his coat and, at Yamamoto's insistence, pulled off his boots and socks. From out of the corner of his eye, Yamamoto observes in quick glances and reflections a new kind of Squalo he has never seen before; a Squalo even thinner and longer-limbed in just his shirt sleeves and trousers, padding barefoot around the linoleum with all the distaste of a pedigree cat.

"So what's his problem?" Squalo asks. "The kid who just decked you. You better check that gauze, you still bleeding?"

"It stopped a while ago." Yamamoto dabs at his nose anyway and swears when the cotton comes away still red. Squalo says, "Sit down and stop fussing like a housewife, put your head back."

"Okay, just let me put this container out to thaw. Okay, I'm sitting down." Yamamoto lowers himself gingerly onto one of the kitchen chairs; his head is still throbbing. "Gosh, he is actually really strong, I never realized."

"Why was he so pissed? He was seriously really pissed."

"He doesn't like you," Yamamoto says, "sorry."

Squalo makes a rude noise in the back of his throat. "I could make the world spin around with people who don't like me," he says. "Big deal. Why did he hit you and not me? Chicken?"

"I think he thinks I like you."

"So what -- he's jealous?"

"Well, no," Yamamoto says. "If Gokudera was jealous that would mean that he likes me and resents me liking you. Which I don't. And he doesn't like me. So he can't be jealous."

"That was one hell of a non-jealous right hook," Squalo says. "I dunno, it looked to me like he was jealous.. Not that you like me or anything, of course."

"Not unless you or anyone else would not mind."

There is an unpleasant pause.

"I guess he wasn't jealous then," Squalo says.

Yamamoto presses on, somewhat self-destructively: "So you wouldn't not mind?"

"Fuck, no, your memory's shitty, I've never needed anyone to like me!"

"Okay, okay," Yamamoto says. "I was just under the impression you were, you know, something was going on with, you know."

"I think you better tell me what I'm supposed to know, because I don't think I know it!"

"Mr Dino," Yamamoto says desperately. As if on cue, a faint snoring can be heard from the hallway. "You were, he was, here, in the hallway, the couch, you were both, he was sort of holding your hair."

Squalo's pupils contract, he looks as if he has just been shot; Yamamoto discovers with fascination it is possible for even Squalo to turn pale. "Um," he says, "last night, I was sleeping, I heard the window opening, I got up because I thought maybe it was that darned cat that comes in and sleeps on our couch sometimes--"

"I am not a cat!"

"I didn't know it was you," Yamamoto says. "I honestly thought it was a cat, I forgot Mr Dino was staying over. It's not really annoying, the cat, but sometimes I leave food in the fridge for Gokudera and I put a note on the couch telling him there's food, so I don't want the cat to read it and open the--" Yamamoto breaks off in mid-sentence; an expression of acute self-awareness is crossing his face. Squalo sighs and leans against the kitchen counter. "Never mind," Squalo says. "Okay," Yamamoto says with great relief. "So I got up and went to the hall very quietly because I didn't want to scare the c-- I was just being careful. You never know, these days. I saw the small lamp was on and I saw you waking Mr Dino up and then, all of that."

"All of that?"

"Yeah."

"Which parts of all of that?"

"He was holding your hair," Yamamoto says, "and, he took off your jacket, and your shirt." Yamamoto dares not look at Squalo, instead he plays with a vegetable knife he has been using, runs his fingers along the edge, tests the blade against his fingernails. "I think he was checking to see if you were hurt. He was, you know, touching you. And then, after that. You know. You were, uh, kissing. And I thought you were okay with it, I thought you were both really okay with that. I was kind of happy for you. But suddenly you got angry and slapped him and went out again through the window. And he seemed very sad. You shouldn't have done that, I thought. I think it has made both of you really very sad."

"There is no privacy left in this world any more," Squalo says.

"Well, I'm sorry," Yamamoto says, "but it was my hall."

"I know it was your hall! I mean telling people not to do this, not to do that, it's none of your business."

"But I think if you didn't get angry and hit him and leave so much you would both be a lot less sad," Yamamoto says earnestly.

" _Madonna_ ," Squalo says, "get your own fucking relationship."

Yamamoto accidentally slices his own finger on the vegetable knife. "Excuse me?" he says, after pressing a paper towel to the wound. Squalo shakes his head, sits down on one of the high stools at the counter, begins to laugh. Squalo's laughter sweeps through the tiny white kitchen. Yamamoto is not smiling. "What do you mean," he says. Squalo's laughter cuts off abruptly; suddenly he doesn't look amused any more. Yamamoto grips the knife harder. Dino's blissful snoring reverberates through the air like an admonishing reminder; Squalo tilts his head to the side, as if the noise troubles him. He relaxes in his seat; the violence drains away from his long, aggressive body, and he suddenly looks so much older and bitter and tired than Yamamoto. Absently Yamamoto wonders what it must have been like to watch the person you loved most in all the world being taken away from you, and trying so hard to get them back, and then realizing after so long that they had never really loved you after all. Then he realizes the flaw in his thinking, and simply hopes he will never know what that feels like. That the first person he truly loves will simply, unhesitatingly, love him back--

"It's always easy when you're looking at other people looking at each other, from a distance," Squalo says. "It's a lot harder when you're only looking at one other person and they're looking back at you. It's so hard. Something tells you to stay but something else tells you to go. Something tells you this is right and something else tells you this is wrong. Other people tell you this, other people tell you that. You know what I mean?"

"I guess I don't," Yamamoto says. "I've never been in a relationship with someone."

"Well," Squalo says, "I was looking at you and that kid who decked you and I felt like I was outside looking at you both from a distance. So I think that's a good place to start. Go and sort out whatever you want to do with each other! You can work it out from there. Whether or not you end up sleeping with him is none of my business."

"There was a while I thought I wanted to sleep with you," Yamamoto says. "Oops, did I just confess to you? Oh gosh, that was stupid of me. I feel so stupid."

"You are," Squalo says. "Everyone is stupid. I am stupid! I should have just gone off and not hung around here."

"Why didn't you?"

Squalo pours himself a glass of water and drinks from it. He does not answer Yamamoto and after a while Yamamoto stops looking at him for an answer. From the hallway Dino's snores emerge, louder than ever; a contented, stupid sound. Yamamoto counts Dino's snores; when he reaches ten, Squalo shouts, "That's it! That's really it!" and stomps off into the hallway. Yamamoto gets up, but his head hurts, it's difficult just to stay on his feet. He can hear Squalo shouting, "I told you a million times to sleep on your side! Don't you know you don't snore if you only sleep on your side! That's it!" -- Yamamoto smiles, although there is no one in the kitchen to see, and sits back on his chair again. He wonders if he snores in his sleep, if Gokudera can hear it through the walls, from his bedroom. If for the past two years of them sharing an apartment Gokudera secretly has been wanting to get up every night and cross the black line of duct tape that marks the boundary of Gokudera's space, to invade Yamamoto's room and shout at him: telling him to sleep on his side, doesn't he know, he's so stupid, he doesn't know.

 

*

 

Gokudera wakes up. He isn't sure what day it is, what's happened while he was sleeping; he stays all tangled in his sheets for several long lazy minutes. It's raining outside, the shadows of the rain move across the drawn blinds like the fingers of ghosts. Gokudera shivers; it must have been raining all night, he wonders why he didn't turn the heater up. He tries to turn the heater dial without moving from the bed, by shuffling over the edge of the bed and reaching out for where the knob should be. He doesn't feel anything, maybe he's disoriented. Gokudera sighs, counts to three, heaves himself up. He doesn't recognize the room he is in. Shit, he thinks; did I sleep with Dino Cavallone after all? But Dino and Squalo went back a week ago, he remembers hazily. A cursory examination of the room reveals neatly stacked textbooks, a broken boken laid out on the table, neatly sharpened pencils, ink paintings of mountain ranges battling for space with various fan paraphenalia of the Yomiuri Giants on the walls. Oh, he thinks, no, I was sleeping with Yamamoto. Yes, he kind of remembers that. A lazy curve lifts the edge of his mouth for a while; it's gone when he realizes Yamamoto is not in the apartment, there is no idiot snoring or happy singing or silly whistling coming through the walls. He sighs, hauls himself off the bed and onto his feet, stumbles to the door and throws it open to check if Yamamoto's coat and shoes are still there.

Hibari looks up from where he is lying, on the couch in the hallway.

"Um, hello," Gokudera says. "It's been a while. Wait, what the hell, how did you get in? What are you doing here? Don't you go to a completely different college?"

"I do," Hibari says. "Yamamoto left you a note. He's gone out to get groceries. Breakfast is on the stove. Also he wants you to know that he loves you." Hibari points to the note carefully laid on the floor. Gokudera goes out into the hallway, picks the note up and reads it. While he is doing this, Hibari yawns, curls up and goes back to sleep. "Hey, don't, you haven't said what you're doing here, reading people's private notes," Gokudera says. Hibari's fingers twitch against one arm, one long and narrow eyelid quivers as if threatening to lift; Gokudera jumps back, hugs the wall. After a while when nothing happens, Gokudera sidles along the wall, all the while watching Hibari sleeping on the couch, until he gets back into Yamamoto's bedroom and slams the door shut and then locks it and pushes a dresser against it for good measure. "Crazy bastard," he says. "Go get your own damn relationship!"


End file.
